Free A Verdict for Love by Monica Conti

some
eavesdropping.
    “Get the hell back on out there and
close that door!” Tamika scolded. Alice made a face but
obeyed.
    “You should listen to her. I don’t
expect you to gamble on this. I’m willing to pay a guaranteed
retainer.”
    “You’re mixed up if you think my work
on civil rights also puts me out there for gay rights. I don’t know
anything about…I mean I never…” Tamika stammered, “It’s not my zip
code…I don’t roll that way.”
    It was Chiara’s turn to laugh. “Hey
don’t sweat it, baby doll,” she mocked, “it’s not
contagious.”
    Tamika was so used to the shabby
confines of the office that its appearance had lost any importance.
But she had to admit that it was probably a turn off for any but
the poorest and most desperate client.
    “What amount did you have in mind as a
retainer?” she asked.
    Chiara opened her purse and extracted
two neatly banded packets of crisp green hundreds. She laid them on
the desk and tapped the cash with a perfectly manicured
finger.
    “Two grand to seal the deal and eight
more before you face the jury.”
    Tamika knew Alice would be out there
with her ear to the door. If she didn’t pick up the money she’d be
dead before she ever heard the end of it. Hell, it was not as if
she didn’t want the money. It was that she was not at all sure she
could beat the system on such a case. In Georgia they didn’t wave
rainbow banners…they waved Confederate flags. And she hated
losing.
    “It might be hard for you as an
attorney to follow my lead…”
    “No. You’d be the boss on this.” Chiara
promised.
    Chiara waited through a long silent
pause and was finally able to smile when Tamika reached for the
green.
    “Ok. Let’s see if we can’t put a
squeeze on those roaring balls you mentioned.”
    They both laughed together this
time.

    A t
111 West Peachtree Peter Smith had called a war council. This time
in the same conference room Chiara and Grace had used. In addition
to the partners Adam Clay was present. He was the ace litigator
they had chosen to bring in from Barnes, Lee and Stuart.
    When Clay had first heard what was up
he’d almost pissed himself laughing. So Chiara Bianchi was a rug
muncher. He’d suspected as much. Clay had made a play for her way
back when. He’d spotted her at a party and asked her to dance. The
damn woman had a body on her and he’d gotten a little free with his
hands. The prissy wop bitch had given him the “Now, now. Be a good
boy” bit. A lot of women said that sort of thing without really
meaning it. So he’d grabbed another handful and gotten slapped hard
for it with the whole room watching. If it hadn’t been for all the
eyes on them he’d have given her one back. Nailing her dyke ass in
a courtroom would offer him the perfect chance for a long overdue
payback.
    “The suit was filed this morning by
some downtown injury lawyer.” Smith was saying, “A black woman by
the name of Tamika Brown. Civil rights background. Get someone to
review her court history.”
    “Sounds like a nobody to me…” Brooks
started but Smith cut him off.
    “Don’t make me tell any of you again…do
not take this lightly. Ten years ago we could probably have had it
tossed out as frivolous but times have changed. Even if we do get a
friendly judge, you can bet that Butrell girl will show up looking
all blonde and angelic and Chiara will try and make us look like
shitbird angel bashers.”
    “Yes times have changed, Peter, but you
needn’t worry. I will take this seriously. You just get me any dirt
at all and by the time I’m done nobody in that courtroom will be
seeing an angel. They’ll be seeing two skanky lesbos. And if that
isn’t enough to raise a stink I’ll turn the pair of them into
un-American commie skank lesbos!”
    The men shared a general laugh at the
vision that inspired.
    “I was assured that the case will go to
Cyrus Milton. It’s not a fix but he is an old school conservative
Judge. Best I could